


i will be your sun (warm you up & melt you down)

by julien (dxlliances)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: AU, Bottom Kim Jongin | Kai, Light Angst, M/M, Smut, Top Oh Sehun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:50:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9499025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dxlliances/pseuds/julien
Summary: jongin ran away, and sehun was more than determined to bring him back to life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> \- x-posted. un-betaed.  
> \- i honestly have no idea what i wrote but i love them so ; ;

New Year Eve.

The repercussion of Christmas is still lingering heavily in the air—and it isn't merely for the pines with motley decorations hung by snatches on the branches, or cheery songs played in the shops - from the smallest to the ones in the huge malls. It's engraved on each passer-by's features, as they hastily walk down the streets, or dart into some stores, and gladly pause for a talk when bumping into an acquaintance. Everything is slower and less busy in one way, yet a lot more urgent and exciting in another.

Jongin loathes it.

Days arrive and slip away, and he's still stuck in a net weaved by skepticism and mistrustfulness to anyone who dared to take a step closer to him. He loathes the way recognition fleets across their visage and gets replaced with disdain the second after. He loathes the way they discreetly glance at him and cowardly turn away when he returns the gesture, but immediately gather together to gossip once deeming he was distant enough. People who used to fawn upon little movements of his now feast on the satisfaction of watching him fall.

Jongin navigates his way through the sea of civilians, aiming at a closed door in a corner sheltered from curious gazes. It is guarded by two sinewy men - they dip their heads slightly in an alternative greeting and let him in without questioning further. The power of money, Jongin inwardly snorts, they might be defying to their cores, yet as long as he brings cash, he's still the boss.

The Sins welcome him with flashing coloured lights and heart-thumping music. Being a regular, Jongin isn't affected by such trivial things, and continues his way to the bar counter, away from the hyper group of teenagers. It does seem like some generous dickhead has decided to show-off a little by expending to the last cent in their bank account on small pills of different colours that kids are passing to their fellows. He used to be the same, Jongin muses on a complexity fabricated by present and past, trembling plump lips counting down to that very moment where the tablets dissolve into molecules of amphetamine and stimulate the function of brain. It's way too vivid for Jongin to ignore, a rough rush of grief washing over him as heavy steps took him to the planned direction.

"Gin. No mixed."

The bartender gave him a look, but got to his work anyways. Less than a minute later, his fingertips touched a cold material and instinctively curled around the base of a glass to pull it closer and bring it to his lips. The first sip isn't easy, heady bouquet of alcohol attacking every cell of his tongue and rushing down the throat. Then the bitter taste spread to the very fiber in his gullet and burnt it with heat. They say, the end of a year is always the time for remembrances to take over, and Jongin doesn't think he has any other way to interpret it.

 

_Confidence rose in his system like tide invaded the adjacent sand, even though Jongin was almost naked, apart from the piece of silk hanging loosely around his hips. Soft threads of different brushes grazed past his statuesque eyebrows, defined cheekbones, and jawline as sharp as diamond, while layers of creams and powder are applied on his skin with accurate amount. There were admiration and blatant desire in the depth of their eyes, to which Jongin paid no actual attention. He was now Kai. Professional. No feelings involved during work._

_As insensible as he'd like himself to be, he wasn't. Or the gaze aimed at his nape was simply too intense to be insipid. After a few fruitless attempts to bypass the unilateral contact, when the staffs asked him to turn around, Jongin finally decided to lift his eyes in response to it—a deep, deep pair of orbs greeted him, so dark, so obsidian, so smouldering, yet what drew him in was the vaporous combination of covetousness and naivety. One twitch of his mouth, and the boy seemed dazed enough to faint._

_"Say hi to your senior, Sehun. Even thought I'm quite sure you've already known who he is."_

_Jongin turned to the door and saw an elegant-looking woman entering with a small smile upon her crimson lips. He couldn't tell if it was genuine, or discreetly mocking, but the boy didn't seem to mind. Instead, he advanced to Jongin as soon as his make-up was done, and held out an osseous hand._

_Hesitantly, Jongin extended his own, unable to defy the harmonious contrast between their skins._

 

Now that Jongin thinks about it, he shouldn't have let himself get distracted by the innocence in Sehun's eyes, especially when his sponsor was that woman. From the very moment where she shamelessly gave him the 'I want you inside me' gaze, he should have anticipated troubles. But rookie Jongin wasn't as professional as super model Kai was, and didn't attempt to scurry away. He briefly wonders if Sehun did, or would, end up the same—being pushed onto a bed after some events and having her riding the fuck out of him. Minus the betrayal, the boy was quite a delicious piece after all.

 

_Working under the same company, Jongin bumped into Sehun more than often, and revelled in the chastity radiated off the younger. They seem to contradict each other in every single aspect—sinful and immaculate, experienced and verdant, black and white—thus he was rather amazed when Sehun approached him after lunch and sheepishly asked for his help._

_"Hmm?" Incredulity was evident on Jongin's features as he wasn't sure if he had heard it right._

_"I'm sorry, really, if you find it contumelious. I myself know it sounds ridiculous but..." The boy fell inarticulate the next second, eyes dropping onto the tiled floor. The way his long fingers clutched at the hem of his shirt only added more to the visible awkwardness, which made Jongin chuckle inwardly. "Our images are very different, at least for the time being, I'm totally aware of that, but you're Kai. You can pull off any concept..."_

_Kai. That one pseudonym saddled on him like the whole sky weighed on Atlas's shoulders. Kai is perfect. Kai is incredibly talented. Kai is almighty._

_"Just call me Jongin." He interrupted Sehun's incoherent mumbles, feeling utterly sorry when the younger's countenance was contorted with embarrassment and quickly glossing over his grouch. "Well, because we're off duty right now, aren't we?"_

_Sehun was somehow brightened up, crescent-like eyes gleaming mirthfully. "So, is that a yes?"_

_It was._

 

What if he said no instead of giving in to the naivety enclosing Sehun's being?

It probably wouldn't change shits. Everything was set up. Since the very beginning.

 

_Sehun was good, honestly._

_It was either because he acquired every and any instruction from his idolised senior, or he was too natural. The lessons spent in Jongin's individual apartment somehow helped the boy step closer to him, literally and figuratively._

_The first time Jongin deemed Sehun competent enough and decided to raise the level of requirement, the younger stared at him as though he had just grown two heads._

_"But—" Sehun stuttered, gaze diverted to ward off Jongin's adequately teasing visage._

_"Are you gonna give directors, photographers, audiences, et cetera, buts if they ask for some execution?" Jongin quirked an eyebrow in his trademark provocative manner. "Sensual is still a very simple request, Sehun."_

_Nibbling on the lower lip nervously, Sehun's hands rambled to the line of buttons on his shirt and fumbled to undo them. The sight was so hilarious that Jongin laughed out audibly, and Sehun flinched a little._

_"Give me something different." Jongin took back the serious attitude and crossed one leg over the other._

_The lad squinted, obviously doubting Jongin's earnestness, then his expression relaxed, anxiety gone. "The model can demand requisite inspiration, right? I want you to be my partner, sort of."_

_Jongin replied with amusement. "Go ahead. What do you need?"_

_Sehun said nothing, only strutting towards Jongin, a knee wedged between his and a hand curled on the collar of his shirt, effortlessly pinning him to the backrest. If the hold wasn't so forcible, Jongin might have thought it was a joke. The veins on Sehun's forearm emerged as he jammed pressure on Jongin's chest and went back to his unbuttoning thingy. It was different, undoubtedly, and no where near the boring stereotypical demonstrations he was about to assign Sehun for. The youngster's atramentous optics connecting firmly with his much less dark ones emitted unadulterated lust and—was it acting?—those caressible lips ghosted over his plump ones gently. Granted given a camera, Jongin could assure the perfect photos matching his own request._

_"That was nice—" Jongin broke Sehun's grip not so dexterously, and put on a mask of difficulty. "You can't always ask for a partner, though."_

_"I never said I would. I said you, so you, Jongin, would be my only choice."_

_Jongin detected mystery in the look Sehun gave him, an intriguing one._

 

By the time the bar became more crowded, he has given up fighting against his nostalgic vulnerability. It took over almost immediately, and drowned him in the profound depths of memories. Four glasses has been drunk up, instead of easing the pain with artificial numbness, they summoned many more images of their behind-the-scenes lessons. Jongin had eventually let Sehun in—his life, his world, and parts of his heart—painful, but it's the truth. Days after days, nights after nights, through runways and locker rooms, an air of dalliance was fabricated between them, and that was the root of rumours and innuendo, which Jongin was simply shrugging off.

He forgot who Sehun was and where Sehun came from. Or he just attempted so hard to turn a blind eye to the truth.

 

_It happened in one rainy night, when they fulfilled their duties for a show and left the studio at twelve. Jongin was walking across the yard leading to the garage, hands shoved deeply in the pockets and face shielded from the rain by the collar of the trend coat when the icy water needles abruptly stopped slapping him on the face, replaced by the cadence of drops tapping against the canvas. He turned to the side, and saluting him was the familiar crescent moons._

_"Going home alone in this weather isn't a nice choice, don't you think?"_

_"If you didn't realize, it's you who will be alone on the long long road if you accompany me."_

_"I..."_

_"The one who lends a helping hand is always the one to end up lonely."_

_Sehun seemed to be at a loss for words, but still followed the elder closely. The single umbrella slightly leaned over him—Jongin was quite sure the boy was getting soaked somehow—and the warmth embraced his back with every step. It was just another one in a thousand times that he questioned why Sehun kept doing such foolish things—specifically, caring too much about a devilish soul like him and even sacrificing at some point._

_"Plus, I don't walk." Jongin let out a mellifluent chuckle and ambled into the parking lot. His favourite Maserati was on the first line, to which Sehun thoughtlessly showed admiration. "Wanna hitch a ride?"_

_The boy's lower lip jutted out in a childish pout, but he rounded the car and slipped onto the passenger's seat anyways, the umbrella folded neatly and rested against his shin. The jaunt was spent in silence, save for Sehun's murmured directions. Oddly, Jongin felt like there was something Sehun wanted to get off his chest but had no actual way to. And taking the initiative to inquire something of someone, close or not, was too out of character for Jongin._

_Sehun lived in a modest apartment in a building behind a mall. The car came to a halt by the sidewalk, and the younger took a little longer than he should to get off. Thus Jongin gave him a perplexed look, pretty much trying not to show any rudeness._

_"I just wanna ask if you would come in. It's already late and driving when you're exhausted isn't that safe..."_

_The lad shifted anxiously, until a small smile crept onto Jongin's luscious lips and his hands placed upon the wheel again. Probably for the hopeful gleam in those pretty eyes, or the constant chirps about how cramped yet cozy it would be when the two of them squeezed together in the single tenement, how nice the morning view was from the living-room's window, and so on, as they parked and shuffled out of the lot, heading to the elevator for the upper floors. The number ceased at 7, Sehun eagerly ushered him out to a deserted hallway, and a door engraved with the letters 'Oh'._

_"This is it. Nothing much." The switch flicked on, and rays of light filled the humble room. It was then did Jongin realize the lad's lithe fingers were wrapped tightly around his wrist, and only letting go of it when the stare Jongin gave him became intense._

_The hold felt nice, and distracting, though._

_Embarrassed and losing composure, Sehun muttered something about pyjamas under his breath and slipped into another room, leaving Jongin alone with abundant opportunities to observe the surroundings. It screamed Sehun, to say the least—neat, simple, pleasant—and set a thin film of relaxation on him. He settled on the leathered couch, darkness and coldness reeking of him contrasting the conversion between creamy, coffee and hazel of the furniture and the decorations. Jongin honestly has neven seen himself in a place that wasn't occupied with feigned hospitality and false smiles. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he was feeling much like a fish out of water._

_His train of thought was cut off as Sehun plopped on the spot next to him, a pile of clothes in his arms. The boy has changed into a plain white t-shirt and sweat pants, lips forming an amiable beam. It died slowly, however, when his very unsullied soul witnessed the senior stripping his clothing off right then, right there. Shy and shame weren't exactly in any model's dictionary, he himself usually stripped anywhere in the apartment at anytime he wished as well, but he just didn't expect Jongin to be so casual. The tanned male caught him staring (if it wasn't all planned), instead of helping to soothe the uneasiness in the pitch of his stomach, Jongin offered him that look—the one epitomizing arrogance and provocativeness and turning every unblemished being into a willing sinner._

_The next thing Sehun knew, he has touched Jongin on the lips using his own. It was no butterfly, brief taction, but an actual kiss. There were times Sehun faintly pictured a more exposed, less appropriate image of Jongin, and wondered what it would feel like to get his hands on such a masterpiece of Mother Nature, yet nothing beat the real deal. The contact introduced him to the sensations he was barely familiar with—heated to the touches and numb everywhere else. Desperate to get rid off that stupor, Sehun drew Jongin closer by a tug on the arm, mouth vaguely opened for some oxygen._

_Off the stage and away from the cameras? Hell, Jongin was no role-model of virtue._

_It wasn't difficult for him to control the kiss with just some tactics; Sehun was way too thrilled and stirred by the thought of sharing such intimacy to prevent himself from melting into the movements of Jongin's plump lips, and letting the devilish tongue creeping in so easily. The faultless sets of teeth tugged at his thin tier, each by each, mild pain eased with kittenish licks and sucks. A husky chuckle muffled in the depth of the elder's throat as Sehun's trembling fingers threaded into his tousled hair and, to his surprise, gripped the brown locks firmly. He could feel their lips being smashed together, laced with uneven breaths and unreleased groans. This time, it was Sehun who drove his pinkish appendage in and swept it across the roof of Jongin's mouth. In next to no time, the bronze-skinned adonis was pushed back down, his naked front heaving rapidly as the junior worked on the zipper of his jeans._

_"I thought..." He began, and immediately shut up when those nimble digits enclosed his length, clumsily, but needily._

_"...that I was an imbecile?" The word choice made both of them laugh softly, and in Jongin's case, moan as well. "I am." Sehun admitted truthfully, his long frame leaning over the elder as his lips peppered nibbles along the defined mandible and his wrist started to twist and pull at the limp cock. "But the things I wanna do to you, god, they're driving me crazy."_

_Jongin never spent a second considering how it might feel to submit, hence his handsome physiognomy was inundated with bewilderment, and just slightly, hesitation. Sehun didn't seem to enjoy the idea of him being distracted by such lame, unworthy concerns, and applied more pressure on his manhood. "Look at me, Jongin." The tone dripped with magnetization and stimulated the tiniest bits of iron in his blood, his veins, drawing him to Sehun and not letting him detach anytime soon. It was obscenely adorable and purely seducing, the way Sehun naturally dominated but still simultaneously craved for attention like a kid insisting on getting what he liked._

_"Look at me, how I'm claiming you as mine." The warmth reeked from each sound he made stroked Jongin's nipple, which was captured by the velvety lips and rolled between the flawless teeth with so much thirst. Jongin was proud, Jongin was self-important, and Jongin wasn't fond of being owned, ever. But Sehun was young, Sehun was ebulliently fierce, and Sehun was more than ready to break any resistance Jongin might build to stop him. As devoting as he was, the urge to usurp and the desire to possess were utterly strong. They were evident in each squeeze and tug he delivered to the senior whilst his unengaged hand struggled to rip the jeans off Jongin. Not like he hasn't seen the piece of art hidden beneath these layers of cloth, but to admire from distance was incommensurable with actually leaving his handprints on Jongin's impeccable skin._

_The quiet rustle of fabrics became ten times louder in the tranquility of the apartment and aroused Jongin real bad. Sehun's ministration was lingering on his chest far too long to his liking, his nipples were pebbled hard and erected rather lasciviously against that tongue, while his cock was no better, throbbing eagerly in the large hand only to get more tease in return. The younger, on the other hand, was making the most of his advantage, enjoying a frustrated Jongin whose back was arching beautifully for him and toned thighs were framing his hips in an attempt to get their crotches bumped. For a self-proclaimed imbecile, Sehun was fucking good at masterminding sex, Jongin unconsciously thought and let out the first aloud whimper in the night._

_"Jongin-ah." The boy let go of the swollen bud, a light, yet complacent smile on his reddened lips. "It feels not so comfortable, does it?"_

_"Fuck. Sehun."_

_"I will take that as a yes." The kiss trailed lower and lingered on Jongin's abdomen. Just when he tried to raise his weight off the couch, Sehun was sufficiently dirty, pinning his hips back down. "Don't be so hasty."_

_Teeth gritted, eyes shut, Jongin swallowed the lump of shame and repeatedly chanted under ragged breaths. "Stop. Please." Needs and desires were intoxicating him inside out, his hands so itching to grip Sehun's messy locks and—_

_That one magical word seemed to stroke Sehun's ego so well, because almost instantly, a warm sensation has encased his little friend much too effortlessly to his dismay. He had no chance to revel though, as the boy pulled away immediately with a lewd pop, and ducked lower—god, his exhale was all over Jongin's puckered hole. The tongue torturing him since the very beginning now pressed onto his rim and took the torment to a whole new level. It made Jongin's toes curl, and he blindly reached for Sehun—hair, shoulders, anything. Sehun must have a thing for frustrated Jongin, as he emitted a chuckle and pushed the tanned thighs up for more access, using the flat of his flexible muscle to lick the heated sex hungrily. The erection throbbing against his cheek everytime he tilted head to dig deeper into the elder's entrance only demonstrated how stimulated he was and he, Sehun, he was also so high on satisfaction from the saccharine taste. With each lick, Jongin seemed to sink more into the buffer, tensed and losing control._

_Was he sputtering incoherence or not, he wasn't aware of it anymore. Probably, because Sehun was spreading his legs wider and literally burying his mouth onto his entrance, wetting it with saliva. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jongin could imagine how the lower half of the boy's statuesque face was stained lecherously; vision blacked out, but stars were flashing like sparks._

_The flux of pleasure suddenly came to a halt, much too cruelly for his taste. Breathlessly, Jongin propped upon his elbows, his mouth falling agape at the sight of Sehun getting rid off his clothes and revealing his erected manhood. It's quite surpassed his size, but not possibly harder. Sehun truculently spat on his palm and stroked himself right there, so carefreely as though it was the most normal thing to do. Jongin wanted to join those slender fingers, badly, yet the last piece of pride held him back._

_The very moment Sehun aligned his length with his entrance, a question of fading vigilance fleeting across his mind._

_What is he even doing? With someone he has decided that he shouldn't trust since the first day?_

_It dissipated, though, when Sehun plunged his cock into his cavern, stretching his rim to its extremity. Jongin's features contorted, little whimpers escaping his parted lips and lubberly hands clutching on the younger's broad shoulders. Pain wasn't his preference at all, the essential reason to why he was never fond of being dominated, but the one Sehun infected him with felt so damn good and addicting. They squirmed and thrashed against each other on the restricted area, Jongin hooked his legs around the boy's middle to allow more friction, and it was sufficient for the organ to fill him to the base, the balls slapping his globes obscenely._

 

Jongin remembers they didn't stop after once, and not on that couch. The images now only are broken blurred pieces, though, after so many attempts of his to erase them. But no matter how desperately he tried, he couldn't push the agony of being betrayal into the past. Just thinking about it irritates him. Unknowingly, his thin digits clench around the fragile glass, knuckles turned white from the force, and crack! Debris penetrated soft flesh, as easily as a hot blade cut a slab of butter into thin slices.

"Tequila."

Minutes later, a new beverage is placed before his unfocused eyes, and he failed to recognize the familiar pale fingers coming in his sight aren't the ones having been serving him tonight. Hell, he didn't bother glancing at the crimson droplets oozed from the wounds on his own hand.

"Are you—"

"Go."

"Sir—"

"Your job is mixing drinks, or sticking your nose into customers' life?"

The guy is rendered speechless, and Jongin doesn't dare to look up. He's being so unreasonable, but how to help it? The last thing Kim Jongin might ever want to do is to have someone pitying and giving him sympathy. He needs none of such kindness.

So casually, he poured half of the shot into his mouth and let the alcohol soothe the stinging pain, physically and mentally.

 

_He had trusted Sehun. In the fucked up showbiz, trust is probably something too luxurious that he shouldn't have given so easily. But everything has (more than) two sides. You know you better not confide in, and contemporaneously, you thirst for a loyal companion. The pressure from living two lives, in front of cameras and in between four thick walls, pinned him down, hence the rare moments spent with Sehun became priceless._

_Until one day, he went to work and received a lot more attention than usual. The stares were full of prejudice and judgement, even disappointment. But Jongin's concern was only raised to a more tangible level when he stepped out of the elavator, to an unhappy personnel manager who wasted no time in ushering him to the locker-room._

_The room was void of noises and actions, only several members of the management board standing with displeasure and determination on their faces. Far in a corner of the room was Sehun's, and used to be his, sponsor, expression painted with feigned compassion. Her presence promised no good, and Jongin unconsciously gritted his teeth._

_"This morning, an hour ago to be specific, videos of your private life were spread on the internet." The man began gravely. Even if he wasn't looking so serious, Jongin would still know. Just what else could make the heads of a thriving agency gather together in a changing room, with no tables and chairs, or any furniture that might mean some formality._

_"Video? What—"_

_"Let me be straight forward. A porn video. Featuring Oh Sehun, your new colleague."_

_Jongin's mouth went dry. Almost instinctively, his gaze divert to the young woman, half bewildered, half furious, but she remained calm as fuck._

_"There's nothing—"_

_"That can save my career right now. Is that what you want to say?"_

_"No—"_

_"Fucking stop acting."_

_"Kim Jongin—"_

_"Don't call my name."_

_"Kai." The man's voice became louder and clearer, much too authoritative. "They just want entertainment. You just need a break. Take part in charity events. Donate to some fucking organization. And they will forget it after a while. No big deal. Don't be such a child and end everything just because of this."_

_Jongin didn't reply, turning on his heels and walking out on the small group. Hasty steps, uneven pantings; where was he going? He had no idea. He successively bumped into people, but it didn't stop him from, nearly, running at all. Porn, Sehun, internet. What a nasty trick._

_It was only when he was surrounded by the steel walls of the basement did he feel less threatened and more calmed down. The place was enough quiet for him to jump when his phone rang the tone announcing a call._

_It was Sehun._

_Jongin didn't have to think twice, throwing the device straight at the nearest wall so forcible that it got broken into several pieces. The sound stopped, and replacing it was the light footsteps of heels against the floor. It was pretty obvious who was gonna show up._

_"Angry? Betrayed? Hopeless?"_

_Mock was more than evident in that feminine voice, each word as sharp as a poison impregnated needle._

_"Fuck off."_

_"Oh baby. You don't need to be so rude. I doubt we will meet again after today, Jongin. I'm here to say goodbye."_

_"Don't—"_

_"Kai is dead, sweetheart. I killed him. That ungrateful, disrespectful, full of self cunt. I freaking killed him." Her laughter rang a melody of animosity in the depth of his heart, the hostility in her eyes hot on his neck, and her, she sounded utterly triumphant. "But even I, Jongin, even I didn't think I would succeed just with Sehun, and on top of that, a sex scandal. You shouldn't have trusted him, boy, he's so so my product, but better than me. At lying."_

_Lying. Right. Everything was lie._

_"Have a good day, Kim Jongin. Let us both raise our glasses to the death of Kai."_

 

When the first bottle of champagne was popped, notifying the countdown to a new year, Jongin stands up (stumbles off) the stool and drags himself to the restroom. Merely to hide from the tempest of excitement about to blow up the roof.

The room is dimly lit to not shock the eyes that were adjusting to the colourful flashing lights out there, but to a drunk like Jongin, it only makes him sleepy and urges him to just collapse and fall into a peaceful slumber. Shaking head side to side to drive the dizziness away, he holds the bleeding palm under the stream of warm water and watches the dried blood washed clean. Accidentally, his bloodshot stare fell on the mirror; the reflection greets him back mockingly. As much as he wants to, he cannot find Kai in himself. Not anymore.

Kai is dead.

The shell he creates to shield his vulnerable nature has been destroyed. Without Kai, Jongin is no more than twenty four years of fucked-ups, losses and disorders. He admires Kai and loathes Jongin, he hates the flaccidity Jongin possesses to the very core, and he craves for nothing but everything destructed. His fingers curled into a fist, slowly raised and slammed against the lucid surface. Bang. Bang. Bang. The temporarily dried wounds are torn open once more, red staining the cracks formed under the force of his punches. Bang. Bang. Bang. Till the fury subsided and the impact decompressed, and he drops onto the porcelain sink's edge, veins throbbing on the temples and heart thumping loudly against the rib-cages. Senses unhurriedly drained off his being.

A toned arm caught Jongin before his body lost balance and fell off the last perch.

 

Jongin wakes up to an obscurely lit chamber, a plain ceiling and many dark shadows of furniture near and far. The mild pain in his head torturing him proves that he wasn't free from alcohol yet, and it takes him several seconds to realize it was the slow caress on his cheek that awakened him from the slumber. Annoyance knitted his thick brows, and he swats that hand away.

Holy shit.

Jongin is no longer sleepy at this point, his eyes hysterically flicking upwards, only to find out that his wrists were chained to the wooden bar. Panic-striken and puzzled to the utmost, he diverted the stare back to the "kidnapper", and he went from confused to startled.

Oh Sehun.

Those syllables weren't voiced audibly, but the male somehow still could hear him. Very difficult to notice, a smile stretched Sehun's thin lips, half smug, half loving, and he reached out once more, this time gripping Jongin by the chin and squeezing it firmly. "I didn't expect myself to take so long to find you." The statement did nothing to help him out of the daze, and he is totally aware of how dumb he looks, yet he wasn't able to do anything about that.

"Why did you run away from me, Jongin-ah? Do you really hate me so much?"

Hate? Yes. "I fucking do. I fucking hate you." The words slipped off gritted teeth, filled with venom and hostility. "Fucking let me go."

Sehun's expression darkened a tad bit, but showed no sign of giving in easily. The boy pulls away though, eyes abusively wandering all over his body, and Jongin felt oddly exposed, even if his clothes are still on. Unlike the time they met, Sehun is radiating an overwhelming aura and a deadly air of angers and impending tantrums—the frame of his face has become sharper, more defined, and his shoulders are even broader than before. Jongin just doesn't understand. It's not okay.

"What a disappointment. But unfortunately, I don't plan to lose you again."

It sounds like some cheesy line in cheap, illusive stories for teen girls, but Jongin's stomach is void of butterflies, instead, it's extra cautiousness because Sehun's thin fingers are already fumbling with his silky tie and tugging it off. "I didn't spend a whole night degrading myself to the level of a bartender just to get insulted by your pretty mouth." Jongin caught a glimpse of a chiseled chest when the younger turned to him again. A tense moment, and the dry timbre of fabric ripped apart pierces through his ear-drums. Coldness hits his front and earns a gasp from him, whilst Sehun tosses the tattered shirt onto the floor. "I've missed you so much, Nini."

Jongin shivers at the name, and the burning fingertips grazing against his skin. What is going on? How? Why? In contradiction to him, Sehun seemed totally capable of controlling the game, leisurely getting himself a cigarette from the metal box atop the bed-side table and lighting it with a lighter. Jets of smoke elicited from the erotic looking lips, and the enchanting odour infiltrated his nostrils. "God, the things I want to do to you." Sehun's voice just dripped desire and Jongin is frozen on the spot as the familiar visage enlarged, heated breaths closer and closer, until their mouths are pressed together. Before he could even grapple for a hint of emotion, he was shocked by a rush of smoke running down his throat. Jongin coughed violently, and the next thing he knew, the lad's tongue was flicking against the roof of his mouth and swirling around his own. A thin string of saliva connected the two pairs as Sehun broke the kiss, and Jongin is nothing less than a breathless mess.

"You taste better than Kai." An impish smile tugged the corner of the boy's lips upwards, and Jongin totally understood what he meant. Kai reeked of alcohol, smoke, and sex, while Jongin has been drived of those for so long. A faint shade of pink dusted his cheeks, and Sehun didn't give him enough time to hide it. The long fingers entangled with his tousled tassels and gripped at them forcibly, forcing him to keep his gaze fixed on the oh so handsome adonis. "Didn't I say you need to look at me when I fuck you?"

Those simple words summon the reminiscences of their passionate nights, the ones he has tried so desperately to push into the past, and it rendered Jongin embarrassed and ashamed of himself. Sehun, obviously, never failed to notice the slightest changes in his countenance, let alone such evident fluctuations. It strokes his young, ebullient ego, and incinerates his resistance into a pile of ash.

For Jongin has been, is, and always will be, the aspiration, the yearning, the striving of the youth he's experiencing.

Sehun's lustful eyes are overlaid with a film of infatuation as he climbs on top of Jongin like he so many times did, however, he didn't settle between the elder's legs, but advanced to straddle the firm tanned chest, his intense scrutiny getting the former super model anticipating warily. And Jongin's stomach clenched as Sehun undid the buttons of his trousers.

"Aww. Don't give me those puppy eyes, Nini. I will be gentle." The once innocent Sehun chuckled darkly and lightly tugged his ex-senior's head backwards. "Or try to, if you be a good boy."

Jongin squeezed his eyes shut, and a hot, sleek roundness nudged against his pursed lips, much to his distaste. He can hear Sehun's breaths muffled in his throat, a bit impatiently, a bit urgently, and the steel-like hold encases his neck, forcing oxygen out of his lungs, until his mouth parted against his will, giving the growling beast abundant access to the warm cavern. Sehun wasted no time, shoving his cock into it, and revelled in the wetness embracing his junior.

"Fuck. It feels so good, Nini. I could play with your mouth all day." The younger muttered, and lodged his length completely in the heavenly dampness, the pressure of his fingers keeping Jongin's jaw slack as he attempts to choke the helpless male. Gagging noises broke the tranquility filling the room as he begins to move his hips back and forth, back and forth, and repeating the motion at a space enough satisfying and assuring Jongin won't be able to bite, or anything of that category.

Jongin tried to seal his lips every time Sehun pulled back, only to get them fucked open even more and more fiercely with each following movement. Where did this bastard even come out from? And then claimed to have been looking for him? And gave himself the right to abuse his body. Unknowingly, his arms yanked at the metal cuffs, so hard, so frustrated that his biceps emerged, but the thrusts only became faster and deeper. It's like the more pathetic he looks, the more pleased Sehun feels, and Jongin wonders just what has he done so wrong to this boy that costs him such punishments?

Sehun slowed down when his cock was slick with Jongin's spit and as hard as he would like it to be, but it's not easy to leave that perfect heat, in fact, he just has to trace the swollen tip along those plump lips, smearing his precome on them, just to paint the alluring masterpiece beneath him with a more sensual shade. "I just want to fuck your mouth and cum all over your face, gosh, your lips are like made to suck me off, Nini."

If only he was still the foolish Jongin of five years ago, he might have been so turned on, so aroused from such words, but no. Sehun earned his trust, then betrayed him as though he was just a joke, and now acted like he meant so much?

"Get the fuck off, Oh Sehun. Fuck off!"

The bitter shout was a slap across the face for Sehun. Frustration is still etched on his facial features, but there is also pain; Jongin wanted nothing more than to tear it off that flawless visage.

"Stop acting like you care about me. Anything we might have had ended that day. I don't fucking know what makes you search for me, if you even actually did, but I don't believe your damn excuses at all. Clear enough? Now—"

Sehun shut him up by a ferocious kiss, of lips devouring lips, teeth chattering against teeth and breaths mingled in between a chaos of nicotine & tar & oxide carbon. This time, the male doesn't hesitate to chew on the vulnerable rosy tiers, greedily claiming and drunkly marking possessiveness despite Jongin's whines out of pain. "Listen, Kim Jongin." The syllables ghosting over gasps escaping him should have been somewhat muffled, somewhat incoherent, but they ring in the back of his mind like eerily loud sirens. "Do you really believe in that fanboy story?" The seductive eyes narrowed into thin slits, pent up anger and resentment storming in the obsidian hues. "No. I, Oh Sehun, lied to my own family, to the whole of OP Corporation, to become a fucking model for you. I let that woman use me like a pathetic puppet just so she would bring me to you."

OP Co.? Puppet? "W-what are you talking about?"

Sehun's stare softened, he attached their lips again. Jongin was on the edge, ready to fight back, before it dawned on him that the coercion has long gone, gentleness and passion being the replacement. The type of kiss that could melt even the toughest, and Jongin is no exception.

"You forgot the kid you used to see every weekend—oh he was never a part of your life, maybe." The younger laughed, undeniably bitterly, but the kisses trailed along Jongin's jaw continue. "I used to follow my mother even though I'm not interested in fashion that much, just because you were working in that branch." A sigh permeated through the crack between his lips as he moved the butterfly touches to the skin around the elder's eyes, kissing the tears Jongin didn't know he was shedding. "You were so beautiful, everyone coming there was waiting for your advice and comment. And you, of course, helped them with all your passion. No time for a fool like me."

With every single ounce of sanity and honesty left in his being, he didn't expect the look Sehun gave him to be so full of pain and just a tad, reproach. "I've spent my adolescence, and half of my youth dreaming of you, and I will spend the rest of my life chasing you if I have to."

Deeming the resistance Jongin built up against him was finally broken, Sehun leans forwards and unlocks the cuffs he has fiercely snatched around the osseous wrists in a spontaneous, selfish moment. The boy's furrowed eyebrows eventually relax upon detecting no sign of animosity from Jongin anymore. He avoided sinking into those round brown orbs, only to latch his mouth onto the exposure of the tanned male's stomach. Whilst Jongin was still adjusting to the paralysed arms, he already worked the jeans open, so skillfully, so eagerly that the former model flushed real bad inspite of not lacking sexual experience at all.

A sudden pause leaving Jongin confused, and then Sehun clicked his tongue, shifting off the elder to get a tube of lube from the nightstand. "I personally am not a fan of this, but I don't want to hurt you." And Jongin hated him for still looking so perfect while he's rendered a mess, of emotion and excitement. He didn't know the young master of the corporation he'd worked for, he was only used to the grown, but naive, Oh Sehun; he didn't dare to trust, but his heart automatically accepted the clumsy confession, and that seems more than enough already.

Releasing a long exhale that's been held since forever, his legs bashfully spread to the feeling of cool, sticky lubrication applied to the puckered entrance, and that was the only invitation Sehun needs to just plunge himself into the heat he has missed so much. It's perfect, everything is perfect, bliss filling the very cells of his body, and the scratches on his back have never been more mellifluent. Jongin struggled to allow the thick cock in, legs pulled up so high that his torso was almost bent in half and eyes shut, raven lashes fluttering in the rough tides of pleasure.

"Harder... Oh god, Sehun-ah..."

"As you wish, Nini."

It became too much for him; the teeth tugging and the tongue licking at his earlobe, added with the husky growl synchronous to the thrusts of Sehun's hips, the slender fingers wrapping around his erection and randomly squeezing it so violently that he could see stars flashing in front of him. Jongin is eager to feel more and Sehun is just as willing to give. Every little noise sounded like a melodious note in their lustful song, it encouraged Jongin to get the last pieces of cloth off Sehun, rather desperately. Sweat formed into beads on their skin, they melted into each other, moulded and shaped to the strongest desires.

The symphony came to its fantasia, where Sehun's movements went erractic and the friction Jongin was receiving got turbulent enough to earn the loudest of scream from him. Keeping his eyes closed, the bronze-skinned male could sense the veins on the younger's cock abusing the walls of flesh inside him. Repeatedly, repeatedly. He gripped tightly on the broad blades just when Sehun's fingertips hitched onto his hips. The final note, an accord of their esctatic high pitch shout, rings in the silence, and lingers above them as the younger released his essense, and after a few more pushes, Jongin follows. The boy's weight collapsed on him. Shyness stopped him for a minute, before he got over it and pulled Sehun into an embrace.

 

—

 

"I remember how shocked you were when I first entered you."

"What the fuck—"

"You can top this time—"

"Why are you so nice all of a sudden?"

"Well I will be inside, so..."

"Fuck you."

"It's the other way around."

* * *

 

**e n d**

 

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